Page 20 of Queen's Move

She got off the bed cautiously, halfway expecting him to yank her back. He allowed her to stand, following her movements as she paced to the wardrobe and started pulling out clothing. A pair of jeans, a hooded sweater, a pair of panties, bra and socks. When she turned back to him and raised an eyebrow he made no move to leave.

“I’m not changing with you here.”

He stood, his tall frame towering next to the bed. “Then you’ll be leaving dressed like that. It’s going to be a cold trip, but my men will enjoy the view.”

Hatred burned in her chest. She wanted to scream at him, lash out and strike him. If she thought she had even a remote chance of landing a blow she might’ve done it. Instead, she reminded herself that she was a mature adult and that one of these days the tables would be turned. He’d turn his back on her at the wrong time, in the wrong place and she would take extreme pleasure in taking him out.

“I can see your thoughts, my dear.” He didn’t sound angry though. He sounded like he was anticipating her rage, revelling in the experience.

“You are a twisted man,” she growled and yanked on the jeans. She decided against the bra since she had no intention of baring herself in front of him. She was small-chested anyway, didn’t need to wear a bra all the time. She pulled the sweater over her head and then sat on the edge of the bed, as far away from him as she could get, to put her socks on.

When she finished and looked up, he was standing in front of her reaching a hand out to her. She ignored it and stood on her own, stepping quickly to the side. He didn’t stop her as she left the bedroom.

“Coat and boots,” he told her, following her into the main room. “Wear all of your new winter gear. You’ll need it for the ride to the airport. We have to drive into St. John’s before we can fly out.”

“A little midnight cross-country kidnapping,” she grumbled as she sat on the bench next to the door to pull her boots on. “Sure, why not, why don’t you maim a few people while you’re up here? Really make a vacation out of it. Show Canada who The Butcher is and why he has such a devastating reputation.”

“Vee,” he said her name warningly. “You don’t want to cross the line with me.”

She stood up and yanked her fluffy winter cherry red parka on. She probably needed a few lessons in the art of blending in, but Vee was never one to follow the pack. When she was ready to go, she stood toe-to-toe with Sotza, glaring up at him. This close, without her signature heels, he towered over her.

“You know what, Sotza?” she snarled, poking him in the chest. “You obliterated the line when you came after me, took my city apart and killed half my town. I don’t fucking care about crossing the line with you. In fact, I anticipate it with pleasure.”

Instead of responding to her angry tirade, he caught her hand before she could storm out the door. He fished into his pocket and pulled the engagement ring he’d given her back in Miami, brought her hand up between them and pushed it onto her finger. “This doesn’t come off again, comprende?”

For once, she didn’t argue. His grim expression told her the consequences would be severe.

Chapter Sixteen

“You need to eat.”

Raina clenched her fist around her fork and glowered at Mateo who was sitting to her left at the head of the table. It’d been nearly a week since her kidnapping. The most she’d gotten out of her captor was his name and that they were waiting for her mother to arrive. She had gleaned a hell of a lot more all by herself, since Mateo’s default setting seemed to be silence, even though she taunted him and pushed him at every opportunity.

Raina was pretty sure she’d been taken far south. When she’d woken up she’d found herself on board a private airplane, flying a long way from Pennsylvania. Probably Central or South America given his accent and the easy Spanish that flowed among the house staff when they spoke around her. She figured out that she was staying in the main house or mansion or whatever they called this crazy big house, but there were other buildings on the property. She assumed Mateo lived in one of the other buildings because he didn’t stay in the house with her. She wasn’t allowed to explore beyond the gardens surrounding the house. And she always had an armed escort to ensure she complied. Near as she could tell Mateo was some kind of temporary babysitter, though given his stature and the fearful respect he received from other staff she assumed he did other, more important things with his time.

After a week of watching routines, inspecting the house and gardens and watching the people within, Raina was fairly certain she could escape. Two things stopped her. She still didn’t have a damn clue where she was or how far from civilization she’d been taken. It would majorly suck if she managed to escape only to die in some jungle. The other reason she stayed was because she knew her mother was flying in soon. Though she wanted to be indifferent to her womb donor, she was curious. She had questions to ask and things to say before she was ready to walk away from the woman.

Raina dropped the fork, crossed her arms over her chest and said haughtily, “Eating would imply I condone this kidnapping.” She gave him a cold stare. “In case you’re in doubt, I really don’t.”

He stared boldly back at her, his tanned face emotionless. There was a gleam of something in his dark eyes. She thought maybe appreciation, though she hoped for annoyance. “You don’t look starved to me, chica.”

She glowered. “Are you calling me fat, chico?”

He laughed. “Hardly.” His eyes roved over her sleight curves.

Of course, he wasn’t calling her fat, she barely weighed 115 lbs. She’d been small all her life. Unhappily she’d given up waiting for her boobs to come in about a year ago.

“I mean you look strong enough to me, Señorita. Like you’ve been getting into the kitchen perhaps, eating plenty.”

“And perhaps I simply don’t enjoy enforced mealtimes with the fucker who kidnapped me.”

The smile left his face. He lifted his napkin and dabbed it against his lips. “I will have the kitchen locked up at night, staff will be instructed that you are not to be fed unless it is at the table.”

She tilted her head, long hair sweeping against the back of the chair. “That’s a nasty move, Mateo. Really beneath you, I think.”

“Oh, Señorita Raina, you have no idea how low I can sink.” The look on his face told her he was more than happy to show her just how mean he could be, should she step too far out of line.

“I would really prefer to eat on my own, in my room. Is my company at the evening meal really worth all this?” she asked.

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